Tuesday, Sept. 02, 2003
Dear Diary:

When we packed up everything from my dank, tiny cell office lo these many months ago and scattered it in boxes around the house, the spousal unit solemnly promised me that I would be in my new, improved, expanded office early in September.

I clutched that promise to my heart. Each morning as I sat down here to my work area, shoved into a corner of our already too small living room, I told myself it was only for a few months. Each time I walked around boxes or furniture or bookcases that normally live in my office, but are now scattered helter skelter wherever we have room in the house, I told myself it was only for a few months.

Well, here it is early in September and, to use a popular Canuckistani phrase, I have a snowball's chance in hell of getting into my office in the foreseeable future.

I hate this. I hate the disorganization. I hate the clutter. Most of all, I hate it that I no longer have a room of my own. Oh, man, but I miss having a small corner of this place that is well and truly mine.

In my 30's I would have had some truly spectacular fights with the man over this. I would have unsheathed The Mighty Sword of Sarcasm and smitten him soundly with it. I have a rich and varied vocabulary. In my hands The Mighty Sword of Sarcasm can be a weapon of mass destruction.

Also in my 30's I came amazingly close to not being Mrs. Spousal Unit. There is a correlation between my somewhat indiscriminate use of The Mighty Sword of Sarcasm and the previous fact. That is why The Mighty Sword of Sarcasm now languishes with the dust bunnies behind the fridge.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Tonight We Have To Have A Talk. Would it be confrontational if I told him this morning I contemplated bludgeoning him in his sleep, collecting the insurance money, and hiring a gorgeous young stud another carpenter to finish the freakin' room?

Yeah, I thought so, but I just wanted to check. I'll think of a kinder, gentler way to voice my feelings.

But if that doesn't work, I'll be in the market for a bludge.

I may be extra super duper cranky because yesterday was the day that the full reality trying to run the Jog for the Jugs in Montreal on Oct. 5 in under 25 minutes hit me.

Yep, yesterday I hopped on the elliptical machine and ran 1 1/2 miles at that pace. Half the race in 12 minutes. I now have a glimmer of the sort of fitness that would be necessary to pull off covering 5K/3 miles in under 25 minutes.

It has now become clear to me that I could never, ever in my life have set such a far-fetched, unreasonable goal.

It Must Have Been My Evil Twin.

I am now looking for My Evil Twin. She seems to have left the building right after making that outrageous claim. If you see a white-haired woman in her 50's, 5'9", light blue eyes, a tattoo of three green vines on her left wrist and another tatt of an orange goanna on her right buttal cheek, send her back here.

She is so running that race.

--Marn

There's a new inductee into the Bazonga Boosters Hall o' Fame, folks who have decided to spend some of their hard-earned buckazoids supporting me as I run the Jog for the Jugs Oct. 5 in Montreal! Yep,

Biensoul


can now proudly sport the shoddily Photoshopped yet justly coveted red rectangle below:

Boob oop de doop eh

P.P.S.- That iron woman, Karen is doing an unbelievable 60 MILE WALK FOR BREAST CANCER! If you don't want to sponsor me, perhaps you'd want to sponsor her. Yowza, that makes that 5K Jog for the Jugs seem embarrassingly short.

Mileage on the Marnometer: 404.66 miles (651.2 kilometers)
Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Half way smoochTen percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers

Going Nowhere Collaboration

.:Comments (10 so far):.

Old Drivel - New Drivel


Subscribe with Bloglines


Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


.:Cast:. .:Diaryland Notes:. .:Comments (10 so far):. .:E-mail:.
.:Adventures In Oz:.
.:12% Beer:. .:Links:. .:Host:. .:Archives:.

Cavort, cavort, my kingdom for a cavort Globe of Blogs 12 Per Cent Beer my partners in crime


A button for random, senseless, drive-by linkings:
Blogroll Me!


< ? blogs by women # >
Bloggers over forty + ?
<< | BlogCanada | >>
[ << ? Verbosity # >> ]
<< x Blog x Philes x >>


This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

Kids, don't try viewing this at home without Netscape 6 or IE 4.5+, a screen resolution of 800 X 600 and the font Mead Bold firmly ensconced on your hard drive.

�2000, 2001, 2002 Marn. This is me, dagnabbit. You be you.